Gaudy 25,000 Square Foot Mega Mansion In Southwest Ranches, FL

August 8, 2012

This gated mega mansion is located at 13811 Luray Road in Fort Lauderdale, FL and is situated on 10 acres. It was built in 2006 and features approximately 25,000 square feet of living space. While the exterior is nice, the interior is a different story. It’s gaudy, over-the-top, cluttered, seizure-inducing, way too busy…okay I’ll stop. I think you get the point. While there’s no denying it’s spacious, there’s just way too much different styles going on. The overdose of statues and stuffed animals is just nauseating. There are 7 bedrooms, 8 full and 2 half bathrooms, 2-story foyer with grand double staircase, 2-story great room, formal living and dining rooms, gourmet kitchen, billiards room, paneled office, indoor BBQ area, stuffed animal room, huge bar area, swimming pool, cabana with outdoor kitchen and a separate guest house that’s being used as a museum. It is listed at $10,000,000.

For shits and giggles I played around with the “Style Designer” tool at the bottom of the virtual tour. It’s actually a very intuitive tool. Damn shame it’s wasted on crap like this.

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Al Robinson

This looks like Gawdy threw up all over ornate. And Ornate threw up all over gawdy.

I just shake my head at how awfully BAD this place looks. It’s got sleaze written all over it. And WHAT THE F–K is up with the room with all of the dead stuffed animals.

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John L.

One of the worst ever. Not only is it hideous, but it is terribly cluttered too. One would think with a 25,000 square foot house, there would be an opportunity to be organized and not have piles of shit in some of the rooms.

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Lonnie

OMG….too much! I’m getting dizzy just looking at these pics.

LESS IS MORE!

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george

I bet the people who own this thing are from New Jersey.

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NOVA Ben

Troll!! 😉

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Chris

They most likely are. Its a winter home for them.

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george

I find picture 16 offensive. I first looked at the the house and thought that without the furniture it wasn’t bad, but with the slaughter of #16 I couldn’t set foot in that SHIT HOLE.

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Daniel

I agree. The place is a shrine to death and classlessness.

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BJ

The Room of African Dead Things is unprecedented. The Sharper Image leather massage chair next to the ornate $100K bed. Santa Claus on the steps. A Betty Boop statue in the lower right corner in front of the elephant mural….and on and on…

It’s like Where’s Waldo met Michael Jackson and ran into Candy Spelling with an open checkbook. This is what hoarding for multi-millionaires looks like.

Thanks for posting. Just…wow.

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mak

Oh. Em. Gee!!!! I just sooooo freakin LOVEEE this place. It’s so over the top it’s like a place that was designed by the staff of The Onion! It’s such a put on of all the rich places that it’s a visual smorgasbord of puns. It is as if someone who was so rich that they could afford to fuck with their friends. Imagine your rich bitch friends coming over and just crapping their pants when they see this. I mean who the hell could top this for gaudy over the topness?

I JUST LOVE THIS PLACE!

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Al Robinson

Do you love it more than Chiltern Mak?

I do find it nice that even though I personally HATE this place, someone out there likes it. I goes to show how we should appreciate everyone else for their differences of opinion.

Thank you Mak. 🙂

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mak

It’s a different kind of love, Al. I would call it a place one “loves to hate”. 😉

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NOVA Ben

Oh wow. Kenny, you’ve outdone yourself, man. It’s all downhill from here, you will NEVER top this. EVER. I defy anyone to find a photo gallery of a less tasteful home than this. aaaaaand my head just exploded.

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rob

I demand a story from Daniel about this place. Can it please include: male strippers, Liberace, methamphetamine and an ostrich. Thanks in advance.

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Chris

hahahaha that would be a story to hear!

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Daniel

Ask and you shall receive. The beauty of doing a full days work in an hour and a half is you have time to write crap like this (Pardon any spelling or grammar errors; this is typed in one sitting as a single train of thought):

Nina was a shy girl born into a poor family. Growing up in Lantana, she dreamed of beauty and fabulous wealth. She wanted the fur, she wanted the gold, she wanted it all. Her older sisters Pinta and Santa-Maria both had wealthy (to her) husbands. She desperately tried to snatch a husband who could provide her with all the things she dreamed of. And then came Sal. Sal too was born into a poor family. Nina truly loved Sal, and even though he was the farthest thing from wealthy, she genuinely cared for him and thought that perhaps money was not all she had longed for. They married and coasted along, both working odd jobs, enough to pay the bills. Fast forward to 2005. Nina, while grocery shopping, decided to play a $1 game of the Lotto. “What the hell” she thought. As she loaded her groceries into the ’86 Cutlass Supreme, she lit up a Newport Slim and remembered her dream when she was younger. To be rich, to have the gold, the fur, the diamonds, the make-up that didn’t rival those watercolor paint sets you could get as a kid for 99 cents. She let out a big sigh and checked herself in the rear view mirror. Nina looked tired and old for her age, her tanned skin filled with cracks and crevices that partially obscured the sweat, tears, and tomato sauce that had accumulated through the years. She cranked the Cutlass, put it into Drive and drove home.

Sal was waiting for her when she pulled into the driveway. Sal was a short, rotund man who bore a striking resemblance to Herve Villechaize. In his stained wifebeater, he sat on the porch of their trailer and always had a glass of pickle juice nearby. “It helps the skin” he would always say. Nina hollered at Sal to help her with the groceries, and he begrudgingly obliged. Nina made their favorite dinner that night, homemade spaghetti and pasta (which in Nina’s mind meant mixing two random jars of sauce together and adding a dash of oregano). While in bed, Nina and Sal were watching the local news and the Lotto numbers were read. “Oh Sh!t!” Nina exclaimed. She remembered the ticket she bought and rummaged through her purse to find it. She did, and hurried back to bed. Sal gave her a look, but she ignored him. One by one, the numbers were read. They stayed on the screen for a few seconds as Nina tried desperately to put together what had happened. She. Had. WON! Just like that. Six numbers matched. She and Sal had become instant millionaires. She and Sal danced all night long and celebrated by opening a bottle of Sutter Home that one of Nina’s sisters had given them as an anniversary present. It was only to be opened for the most special occasions, and this certainly qualified. The next day, they both dressed in their most outstanding attire. Sal wore the suit he used during his first communion. It was snug, but he hadn’t grown much from then. Nina wore a stunning, VINTAGE pant suit with exaggerated shoulder pads. The polyester hadn’t faded much from when she bought it 25 years ago, so she thought it would due. They piled into the Cutlass and drove up to Tallahassee to claim their gold. They hadn’t told anyone close to them about them winning, because Nina wanted to surprise her two sisters by attempting to one-up them – she planned on buying the biggest house on the biggest plot of land she could find, and inviting them both over once they had moved in. The state wired their money to their requested bank account, which *of course* was their checking account. Where else would they put it? “Rich”, Nina thought. “I’m finally rich.” Instead of taking the Cutlass back home, they drove to the nearest Mercedes dealership and picked up the best thing in the showroom, a $200,000 S65 with all the gizmos and gadgets. Sal liked how it had 84-way power seats – no more sitting on a cushion to see over the steering wheel for him. Amazingly, they hadn’t murdered anyone on the road with their new chariot, and pulled up to the entrance to their trailer park. Both knew it wouldn’t make sense dirtying the car up, so they drove past it to the nearest real estate office, leaving everything behind. Nina wanted a new start. Both wearing their finest 1980s chic, they found the nearest real estate office and walked in. 10 minutes later, they had decided on a house.

The stunner you see above was immense and was situated on a huge lot. It was the house of her dreams, albeit 20 or so years late. Whatever, she thought. They paid full price for the home, because they knew they could afford it. Nina was living the life. Every day she ventured out to buy stuff for the house. More, more, more. The more it glittered, the more Nina wanted it. Soon, the house was filled to the brim with the fantastic furniture you see above. “My, my, my” she thought. “Some real classy sh!t right here.” Nina was proud of how she decorated her home. She hadn’t used an interior designer, because let’s face it, the b!tch didn’t known you could hire people to decorate your house. But now came time for what she had been waiting for all along: Pinta and Santa-Maria! She phoned both and invited them and their husbands to a sit-down (as opposed to a stand-up(?)) dinner. She gave them the new address, and both sisters questioned her about it. She simply said “it’s a surprise” and left it at that.

The night of the dinner arrived, and Sal and Nina both had upgraded their wardrobe. Considering the nearest decent store was a 35-minute drive east to Los Olas, they settled on what was nearby. Both resembled clowns in their new garbs, but at least it was from this decade. Pinta and Santa-Maria had arrived. As they got out of the car, they were shocked. “Nina!”, one sister asked, “What is this?!?” “It’s my new house…my dream came true!”, she exclaimed. As Nina showed Pinta, Santa-Maria and their husbands around, she felt proud. Her sisters looked at each bauble and marveled at it. The husbands were relatively quiet and just followed their wives. 20 minutes later, the tour was over and they sat down for dinner. It was a feast unlike any of them had ever seen. Everything had over 500 calories and was as heavy as the table they dined at. After dinner, Pinta and Santa-Maria hugged Nina and Sal, and went on their way.

“Would you believe that B!tch!!!!” one sister exclaimed. “Honey, how come WE don’t have those living room couches” the other chided. The bickering continued for Pinta and Santa-Maria. They were intensely jealous of Nina. Another several years pass, and we have inevitable tale. Sal and Nina have squandered their jackpot on gilt furniture, statues, and mammalian heads. Being the brilliant finance professors that they are, they don’t diversify the earnings and instead keep all of the money in their checking account at some no-name bank. Said no-name bank disintegrates, and they are left with the $250K that the FDIC covers them with. The Benz is repoed and they have no choice but to sell the palace of their dreams. They use the same agent they used to buy the house, and demand the $10 million asking price. “We can still make the money back”, they hope.

And so, the home sits on the market, filled to the brim with the cheap knock-offs that Nina thought would prove to others she was rich. But Nina wasn’t rich. Even with all the money in the bank she once had and all the gilt furniture, she was still the poor girl from Lantana. She was not smart enough to realize that regardless of how many zeroes your bank account has, “rich” and “class” do not always go hand-in-hand. As Nina clings to the hope of being able to maintain her palace, she can’t help but think her sisters had won. With that thought, Sal walks past her with a glass of pickle juice. The cloudy brine resembles sewer water, but the crystal goblet it’s in make it a little more appetizing.

But it’s still pickle juice…

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Mak

Damn. I was hoping you would include the male strippers. And the Ostrich.

Yea…that would have been awesome.

😉

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Chris

LMFAO! I love it!

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rob

Wow

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marc22

LOL Somebody is just too cruel, but I bet this homes story is not too far off the mark.

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marc22

“I defy anyone to find a photo gallery of a less tasteful home than this”

Really? I think you truly underestimate the amount of bad taste that exists out there, it just hasn’t had the opportunity to be photographed yet and posted here.

And I like Mak’s playful mind…………imagine having billions and just for the hell of it you build this steaming pile of crap and fill it with every trashy gaudy dust collector and pseudo-collectible and invite all your friends over for a house warming. I bet nobody says a word to you except “beautiful home”, “lovely living room”, “I love what you did in the dining room”, etc. etc. and you can laugh all night long at your friends hypocrisy. Make sure a photog is on hand to capture their reactions when they set eyes on your entry hall. Yikes!

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NOVA Ben

Alas, you’re probably right. Guess i’m an optimist 😉

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Joseph

I’m glad the description summarized this. I cannot imagine how a house can be more than ten times the size of an average home yet be so cluttered. Homes of this style and scale should be fairly spartan. Also, does anyone notice the christmas tree?

I’ve seen worse though, and as an example: a white stucco mansion with a red scale roof that contains a “star wars room,” purple carpeting, and a black tile commercial building looking flooring. No matter what, it can always get much worse, just be glad the exterior isn’t such a mess.

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DR.VEGAS

Well…Ft.Lauderdale is a favorite haunt of “up from the trailer park” new money types. The kind who get rich from MLM scams…pain pill clinics…boiler room investment swindles…and lottery wins. It only makes sense that botched abortions like this would exist there. Hell…his neighbor is probably worse.

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mak

The trailer trash is literally right next door. Look at the aerial map of this place.

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Harry

If I am not mistaken, the staircase of this house was shown on an episode of “nip/tuck”. In it, the Rosie O’Donnell character buys it and decorates it and Christian about dies when he sees it and directs her to a professional decorator to have it re-done.

Never – NEVER – have I laid eyes on a hot mess of this magnitude… that fluorescently-lit garage full of dead animals – I can’t… I just can’t.. can you IMAGINE how mortifying it would be to accidentally stumble into that room drunk and/or stoned?

Truly the stuff nightmare are made of.

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GeorgeL

Too much clutter; tasteless inside and out.

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lambskin

Can you imagine what the brokers open was like?

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GeorgeL

After looking at the pictures in the listing, wow!!! Was that a bathroom mat in the kitchen? Were those animal posterior in the entertainment room barstools? The draconian beds? The purple sofas? Ouuch!!!! The over stuffing of statutes. The Santa in the foyer. The bargain over sized lamps throughout from the same antique dealer. The list is endless. Hideous!!!!

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mak

but hideous in a good way, right?

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Joi

wow they should have cleared out this house before they listed it. Just think they are going to destroy another house in the name of decor 🙁

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Teddi

Shame on you guys. How can you call this gaudy. I think gaudy is insulted, this goes way beyond gaudy. Though I do admit to not knowing what adjective could possibly be used to describe this. I have never in my life seen anything like it.

All I can say is I feel sorry for the listing agent. How in the world can he/she show this?

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D800GUY

I wonder how many slaves it takes to run this palace…

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